Killing Machine
by Oiche
Summary: The gang begin on a case where nothing is as it seems and the impossible is happening...
1. Chapter 1

Rossi entered Hotch's office briskly, barely knocking his knuckles against the wood of the door as he went, to signal his arrival. Hotch looked up from the mountain of files that surrounded him.

"It's an emergency."

Hotch nodded, he trusted Rossi and didn't need to hear anymore, "Tell everyone to get ready, we'll get caught up on the way."

Rossi let out his breath, relief flooding his veins and turned out the door, rushing to tell the others.

"An old buddy of mine from college rang, he's a sheriff now, twenty dead bodies in three days. There's a killing machine on the loose in his town. They thought that they could handle it but when 12 were killed on day three, Grady knew they needed help."

"Twenty?" Prentiss asked in disbelief, her brow furrowed deeply in grime fascination.

Rossi merely nodded as Morgan spoke up, "How were they killed?"

JJ answered as she turned her laptop screen to face the gang, "I just received the files."

Images popped up on the screen; bodies, badly beaten and disfigured. Blood and bruises littered the bodies of men and women, differing races and ages.

"They were all beaten using bare hands and surrounding objects." JJ read.

"Surrounding objects? Where were they attacked?" Reid asked.

"Homes, bars, the street and a graveyard."

"So, the M.O.s are all different, the locations are different and so is the victim pool," Prentiss said grimly. "Who, or what, the hell could do this?"


	2. Chapter 2

"We have our guy," Garcia greeted Morgan as he answered his phone.

Morgan's eyes widened, "Thanks, baby-doll, that was fast."

"What can I say, I''m amazing."

Morgan hung up the phone and rushed to the cars along with the others, they headed to the address that Garcia had e-mailed to Morgan's blackberry. They pulled up to the huge house that was located at the address they'd been given and waved badges and warrants at the baffled butler (yes, there was actually a butler) who answered the door.

The group split up, Morgan taking the basement, Rossi and Hotch taking the ground floor and Reid and Prentiss heading for the second storey. Reid and Emily parted, too, when they reached the landing, he moving to the right and she to the left.

Reid moved cautiously through a suite of rooms; his heart pounding fiercely and his mind semi-distracted by the formal plan of the building. Its circulation resembled that of Baroque palaces. He moved through a bedroom and reached the final room in the enfilade, it was a bathroom rather than a cabinet. A shower was running and standing in this curtain-less shower was the most idealised form he could conjure in his mind; Titian and Rubens would have both been shamed in the face of this perfection. The woman was young, the perkiness made that apparent, and her back was to him. Skin of creamy perfection glistened in the evening light and in the spray of dewy crystals. He was paralysed as his eyes consumed her like a starving animal. She was a woman, curvaceous as Titian and Rubens would have approved, but more slender and willowy. She couldn't have been tall but her limbs, so long and lean, made her height deceptive and difficult to equate. Chestnut tresses infused with auburn were plastered against her back, reaching her lower back easily. She moved her hands into her hair and began to turn, spotting Reid in the process.

In an instant he awoke and sprang to action; he held up his gun and was about to yell "FBI" at her when she grabbed a gun at lightning speed from a holster which he should have seen strapped to her thigh.

"Who the hell are you!?" she demanded, pointing the gun steadily at him.


	3. Chapter 3

She sat in the interrogation room alone, her hair was still wet and she knew that the chill in the room would cause her to catch cold if she wasn't given another layer. Stupid FBI, rushing her when they barged into _her_ home no less; she had no idea what they thought they were going to charge her with. The whole situation was preposterous.

And were all their agents so green? The one who had run in on her had gotten all red and panicky when she'd attacked him. In all fairness to her he _was_ a stranger, toting a gun that had rushed into her bathroom while she was mid-shower. She may have attacked the man but she didn't know that he was an FBI agent; he could have just been some crazy-ass perv. It wouldn't have been a first time; big, gated mansions seemed to attract the crazies.

Besides, he had seemed more alarmed by the fact that she had been naked, than the gun she'd pressed to a pulse-point on his neck.

Beatrice, or Bee, shivered for the hundredth time and rolled her eyes; this making her stew crap was such a lame and tired move. "Hey!" she called towards the mirror on the other side of the room "If you're gonna leave me here to wet my pants in fear, could you at least gimme a pair of pants?!"

Her voice echoed and no one replied when the last of the sound disappeared. "Oh, when Dad gets back he's gonna be so pissed."

"Come on!" she felt the pout, that she wished would piss of, begin to form upon her lips. Bee stood quickly, her chair toppling as she did so and began to walk around the room; she closed her eyes and breathed in the air. Bad decision; the room smelled stale and pungent.

She hugged her arms around her cold frame and sat down on the floor, anything was more comfortable than that chair. Her silken robe was no protection against the freezing air of the room; she wished that her long and comfortable old robe had been the one she'd picked up while being dragged from her home. They'd taken her gun, she hated going anywhere without it, and she felt even more naked under the flimsy fabric without it.

'Pull yourself together' she told herself angrily and she sprung from the floor, 'No feeling sorry for yourself. Have some dignity, they will not beat you.'


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Kay, thanks for the reviews, you have no idea how buzzed it makes me! Just wanted to tell my second kind reviewer that this part should 'splainy the whole not recognising Dr. Reid as being part of the FBI and all.

Thanks again!

Also note: I claim no ownership whatsoever of anything that belongs to others!

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The room was blurred; she hadn't had time to grab her contacts or glasses. Bee was still frozen and she felt like she'd been there for an age. Realistically, she knew that it had been only around half and hour but with her impaired sight giving her a headache and the draughty room (plus scant dress) the pain in her head and freezing toes was all she could dwell on; and time was a sadistic fuck like that, it went so much slower in these scenarios.

Bee had had enough, moving into a cross-legged position on the table, she tucked her robe so that nothing was flashing, and began to regulate her breathing. Her energy was centred and she calmed.

The opening of the door behind her caused her eyes to fly open and in a moment, she was on her feet again. Bee stood straight and looked her guest unflinchingly in the eye.

"So you've stopped ignoring me." It should have been a question but she said it as a scolding remark.

The man, the one from the bathroom earlier froze as he walked in the door and looked just as uncertain as the first time they'd encountered each other. Bee felt his eyes roam her body but it was in a methodical rather than a lecherous manner.

"You're cold."

"Well done, tell the FBI from me that you're a keeper."

He smiled a little bit at that and Bee was shocked, shouldn't he have been all angry and high-and-mighty? Bee stepped back as he moved towards her. He slowed, seeing her hesitancy and took off his jacket, keeping his gestures and body open to her view. Once the jacket was removed he stepped nearer and draped it around her shoulders.

"Thank you," Bee said, eyes round and slightly damp, taken aback once more.


	5. Chapter 5

"This can't be real," Prentiss stated in utter disbelief.

"That's not even possible", JJ remarked with certainty.

"Actually," Reid said, never looking away from the screen, "It's quite possible with the appropriate training, nutrition, awareness and self-control."

"But she's so little," Morgan noted.

They all looked back at the screen where the young woman, now in their custody, was beating and killing the people around her with inhuman grace and agility. They all flinched when she mercilessly and coldly snapped the last man's neck before walking away.

"It doesn't make sense," Garcia piped up from the second screen.

"What's that, baby-doll?" Morgan asked her.

"Well," Garcia began and the screen showing the grisly attack (it couldn't be labeled a fight because the victims had never had a chance to defend themselves from the flurried wash of limbs and pain that rained down upon them) rewound to the start of the shop's footage. "She just walks in the door, browses all leisurely-like, picks out her Louboutins, lines up calmly and quietly to pay for them, pays for the shoes and then pow! She suddenly goes insane, kills ten new vics and walks out the door sans shoes."

"Yeah, I mean, why did she do this?" JJ inquired of no one in particular with a shudder.

"That's what we need to find out because with her training, there could be someone teaching a whole new generation of serial killers," Hotch said and turned to Reid "You're going to question her with Morgan. You go in first, try to build a rapport with her, her defences may be down with you because of...earlier."

Reid's skin flushed red and he looked down, "Yessir."


	6. Chapter 6

'He's being nice to me, to trick me,' Bee reminded herself as she sat down at the table across from the man.

"I'm afraid that I didn't introduce myself...ahem...earlier," he said, a blush staining his cheeks, "I'm Dr. Reid."

"Doctor? Bet, Mama's proud, you being so young and all."

"Well, yes, but that's not really relevant is it?"

"You were the one who brought it up," Bee reminded him "So, why don't you tell me how relevant it is?" She placed her elbows on the table, linked her fingers and cradled her head upon them, peering up at the young doctor.

"Are you trying to profile me?" Reid asked incredulously when he saw how intently the young woman was looking at him.

"You say 'profile', I say 'analyse' or 'understand'. Are you trying to profile me?"

"Of course, it's my job."

"So, what can you tell me about me?"

Reid considered her a moment, uncertain of how to proceed. Her large eyes were locked earnestly on his face, their frankness made him uncomfortable. In fact, this whole situation made him uncomfortable; no matter how he looked at it, she wasn't a killer. But he'd seen the video, hadn't he? Nothing was making sense.

"You're an only child," he said, deciding to humour her briefly with harmless facts of little consequence. "You have attended, or currently are attending, college. You were a tomboy as a child."

"All right so far," she told him with a small smile, it didn't reach her eyes, she didn't trust him. Reid continued, hoping to build that rapport that he'd been asked for.

"You come from a privileged background..."

"Duh."

"...but you don't get everything you want."

That stunned her slightly, everyone assumed that the opposite was true. "How do you figure?"

"You're not spoiled; you're too quiet, too collected."

"Well, colour me impressed. Tell me some more and you may convince me that you're a wizard."

Reid smiled a little a that, almost enjoying the conversation. As soon as he thought that, he caught himself; he had to stay in control and remain focused.

"You bite your lower lip when you're uncertain or nervous. You've studied ballet at some stage in your life. You don't have a boyfriend."

"How is that last snippet relevant, doc?" Bee asked him, batting her lashes as she peered up at him teasingly.

The door slammed open and Reid and Bee both jumped. "Don't say another word, Bee!"

Bee turned around, "Daddy!"

"How dare you people! Barging into _my _home, taking _my_ daughter and not even having the common decency to let her get dressed!" the man who stood angrily over Reid was red-faced and his face was contorted in disgust. He glanced at Reid before moving to Bee, "You okay?"

"Yep," Bee nodded, "A little cold, but Dr. Reid helped with that," she said, motioning the jacket to her father.

"I see, maybe they're not all completely heartless... I digress, let's get you out of here."

Morgan and Hotch came running into the room. "Sir, I'm afraid we're going to have to talk to your daughter before you can leave," Hotch explained calmly.

"Oh for the love of..."

"Daddy! They're just doing their jobs! This must be some sort of misunderstanding, let's talk to the nice people from the FBI, clear up the mistake and then we can go home." Bee smiled, trying to give off an 'I'm so reasonable and helpful' vibe.

"Fine, I'll be staying in the room though, acting as your lawyer."

"Sir?" Morgan inquired.

"I'm a certified lawyer, I'll be representing my daughter."

"That's not necessary, dad."

"Actually, I think it is." Hotch spoke up ans Bee spun to face him, confusion writ all across her face. "We're charging you with the murder of ten people, with the possibility of twenty more counts of murder."

"Okay," Bee said, trying to stay calm, "I know this is cliché, but; WHAT?!"


	7. Chapter 7

Bee was silent as Agent Morgan escorted her to a cell, she was confused and felt sick after seeing the video clip that they had shown her. It made no sense. She hadn't done that! But then, she saw it with her own eyes, that was undeniably her. Maybe someone was framing her; but how could they mimic her so perfectly and why would anyone want to frame her?

The cells that she was marched past were occupied by a few drunks and petty thieves. They shouted at her as she passed and their crude remarks caused a chill to run down her spine. Bee shuddered in revulsion.

Agent Morgan nudged her into the cell and she sat in the centre of the empty room hugging her knees to her chest. 'Thank God that I have the room to myself'. She could still hear her father raging at the sheriff, it was pointless, that tape was so damning.


	8. Chapter 8

"That can't have been my baby!"

"I know that this is all very shocking and a lot to take in, Mr. Bellevue, but you saw that tape. There is no doubt that the woman in question is Beatrice." Hotch tried to reason with the man, but he had little hope; who was reasonable about their children when they were in trouble?

The man was gripping the edge of the table before Hotch and shaking his head softly. His knuckles were stained white from the tension in his hands.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Aidan Bellevue muttered and stumbled from the chair, out the door of the interrogation room.

"This is gonna be a long interview process," Rossi sighed and leaned back in his chair with a yawn.

"I guess so," Hotch agreed and moved out of the room as he wiped a hand wearily across his face. "Morgan, could you go check on Mr. Bellevue?"

"Sure thing, boss."


	9. Chapter 9

Bee sat in the cell, her knees were drawn tight to her chest and she was humming the song that her mother used to sing to her as a little girl.

"I don't care if Monday's blue  
Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too  
Thursday I don't care about you  
It's Friday, I'm in love"

She'd only gotten that far when she noticed someone at her cell door. It was the blonde woman she'd seen amongst the agents before. Bee raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"Here, these are for you" the woman said as she passed a bundle of clothes through the bars.

"Oh thank God!" Bee exalted and took the pile eagerly.

"Your dad brought them," the blonde woman told her as she turned her back to give Bee some privacy.

"Thanks," Bee called over the sound of rustling fabric. "Done; you can turn around."

The woman turned around again and Bee was now wearing an ivy-green silk dress that fell in waves from golden straps to her knee. Bee smiled happily, clearly pleased to be in her own clothes, even in such an awful situation. "Thank you for bringing this to me, Agent…?"

"Jareau. Everyone calls me JJ."

"JJ…That suits you." Bee told her "May ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Why are you being so nice to me? I mean, you have pretty damning evidence that I'm your killer."

JJ studied her face and took a deep breath, "Because, I don't think that you did this." 


End file.
